First Date
by HetaOmorashi
Summary: Omorashi warning! Don't like, don't read. John and Sherlock's first date...sort of.


Woo, first non-anime fanfic.

Omorashi warning! Don't like, don't read.

Sherlock wasn't exactly sure what he should be doing, so he just stayed quiet as he sat next to John in the taxi. The two were finally going on their first real date, and John was clearly excited. Sherlock was excited too, of course, but he was also nervous, and he really needed the bathroom. He'd gotten home later that he thought from a case and John had said he was hungry and that they should go, so Sherlock agreed, even if his bladder didn't. This was no problem, though, because he could just go when they got there. When they got out of the taxi, Sherlock paused for a moment to press his thighs together, but John didn't seem to notice. They walked into the restaurant and sat, with Sherlock immediately looking around for the restrooms. He saw the door, and after taking a few seconds to read the sign on the door, he felt his heart sink.

_Men's Restroom_

_Closed for cleaning._

Sherlock wanted to scream, but he just decided he'd wait until he got home. He and John sat at the table, and Sherlock was glad that John couldn't see him madly crossing his legs and pressing his thighs together. Sherlock soon realized that if he was careful, he could hold himself under the table, but only for a few seconds at a time.

As they waited for their food, Sherlock did his best to talk with John.

"Are you nervous or something? You seem like you can hardly sit still." John remarked, taking a sip of his drink. "When was the last time you went on a date, Sherlock?"

"…Never." Sherlock answered.

"Never? Not once?"

"No."

"Really." John seemed interested. "Not as a teenager?"

"No."

"You declined everyone, hm?"

"Sort of."

John chuckled slightly. "Come on. You've been asked on a date before. There's no way."

"I have." Sherlock replied, pressing his thighs together. When would the bloody food get there?

"And you said no?"

"Even in school, I had no interest in women, John."

"Hm." John nodded once, glancing up as the waitress brought their food. "Oh, good, I'm starved." He smiled.

Once the food was set in front of him, John began to eat. Sherlock picked at his food a bit, which was normal for him. He ate a bit of it, wishing the meal would distract him more than it did.

Sherlock was nearly bouncing in his seat by the time John finished.

"Is that all you're going to eat, Sherlock?" He asked.

"I'm not hungry."

"It's a wonder that I've never seen you faint."

"I know. Are you ready to leave?"

John sighed softly.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"You don't like this, do you?"

"Like what?"

"The date."

"I didn't say that."

"Then why are you so anxious to leave?"

Sherlock didn't answer, not wanting to admit that he had such a childish reason to want to get home. He was a grown man and he should be able to control himself. It had just been so long since he last went…

John waited for a few seconds, before he called a waiter over and asked for the check.

Maybe Sherlock would've started to feel bad about now, because John had been excited about their first real date, but he didn't care. He couldn't care. His mind was completely full of one thought: He was about to wet himself.

When the meal was paid for, Sherlock stood and felt the first spurt leak out of him. He didn't stop, though, nearly dragging John out. He was trying not to be obvious, but he couldn't help bouncing in place and tensing up to try and hold it all in.

They got into the cab, and Sherlock crossed his legs, not caring as much if John saw. The date was over and he hadn't ruined it…right? Maybe he had. He didn't know, and he didn't care. He needed to get home.

"Sherlock..?" John was surprised at the other's actions. It was obvious what he needed.

"What?"

"You could've gone at the restaurant."

"The bathrooms were closed."

John's eyes widened a bit. "Oh…I understand…and there I was thinking that you were bored or…" He trailed off.

"Or what?"

"That you'd changed your mind about me. Something like that."

Sherlock shook his head. "No…just…need to get back to the flat…"

John nodded. "Fifteen minutes, Sherlock." He tried to sound encouraging.

There was a silence after that, with Sherlock squirming around until he finally grabbed himself to try and stop a second leak.

"Ten minutes…" John had stopped trying not to stare. "You can wait ten minutes."

Sherlock just nodded, trying to believe that.

It wasn't true, though, because despite his best efforts, a soft hissing noise filled the cab, and Sherlock relaxed back against the seat. John felt his face flush and he glanced up at the driver, who was oblivious to what had just happened. The noise didn't stop for at least two minutes, but it felt much longer to both Sherlock and John. John didn't think he'd ever known someone who could piss for that long. Then again, he'd never met someone like Sherlock Holmes.

There was a few moments of silence before John spoke. "How long had you been…?"

"All day."

"You're insane."

"I thought you knew that by now."

The cab stopped at the flat, and John staid back to pay while Sherlock quickly went inside. John left a pretty large tip, hoping it would cover the cleaning of the mess in the back seat.


End file.
